


off guard

by macsdennis



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Addiction, Power Dynamics, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Smut, Unsafe Sex, both perspectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macsdennis/pseuds/macsdennis
Summary: “Do you still like my hair?”
Relationships: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Comments: 27
Kudos: 266





	1. benny

“Do you still like my hair?”

The words exit Benny’s mouth quicker than he intends, almost as though they knew they had to chase after Beth before she could skitter away again. He sees her almond eyes widen slightly, feels her arm flex under his hand. He hadn’t meant to grip her arm that tightly, but the feeling of her skin, warm and supple against his, sent a shiver through his body when he first grabbed her. 

It isn’t like this with anyone else, Benny realises faintly in the back of his head as Beth moves boldly forward and presses her body against his, her lips connecting to his mouth roughly. Sure, he enjoyed sex, and he definitely got his fair share of it - but there was something about Beth.  
She kisses him again, gentler this time, and Benny feels a hint of the younger girl he met two years ago through her confident exterior, young and slightly unsure of herself, but fiercely determined. He slides his hands under her shirt to palm at her warm back and hears a small whimper. It suddenly dawns on him that she might be a virgin. 

They move quickly to his room, the place that Benny had often seen Beth looking at curiously. He wasn’t exactly sure why he felt so opposed to letting her into his room - pride, perhaps. Self-preservation. Beth Harmon had an uncanny ability to get inside his head, a trick which wasn’t limited to their chess matches, so to let her into his room would be like giving her another step towards victory over him. 

Benny certainly didn’t mind this sort of victory, however. Beth seems to gain some confidence and pushes him lightly backwards so the back of his knees hit the bed and he sits down. Smirking slightly, she straddles him, long-fingered hands on his shoulders. 

“And you said to forget about sex.”

Benny cocks his eyebrow. No way is he going to make it that easy for her.

“Who said anything about sex?”

Beth glances down to the sizeable tent in his lap. “Didn’t have to say anything.”

She pitches forward again and attaches her lips to his neck. It’s hot, to say the very least, to feel her mouth working against his blazing skin, and Benny groans lightly at the sensation coupled with the subtle grinding of her pelvis against his crotch. Too many layers. 

All Benny wants to do is undress her slowly and do things to her, sordid, terrible things that one shouldn’t want to do with a friend. During the time that Beth has been staying with him, chess has, for the first time, been pushed from the forefront of his mind, replaced with her. He watches her expertly move a Queen and can only think of her delicate hands and how they would feel tugging at his hair. They eat breakfast together, and he has to tear his eyes from her bow-shaped lips, lest he embarrass himself at the table. 

He once caught her getting dressed in his room. He had been making coffee at the counter, thinking she was still in the bathroom. Moving past his bedroom to place the mugs on the table, Benny had noticed that the door to his room was slightly ajar - and there she was, bent over in just her bra and panties, her back to the door, stepping into a pair of slacks. It was in no way the most flattering position, or one in which Benny could see anything revealed, but his heart sped up at the sight of her creamy skin and long legs. He silently stepped away from the door before she could notice him, and when Beth glided out of his room to sit and drink the coffee he had made, she gave no indication that she was aware of what had happened. 

Those legs had occupied his dreams for at least a week after the event. 

And this is beyond sexy, Beth Harmon writhing in his lap, scrabbling to take Benny’s black t-shirt off, making small gasps and moans as she grinds against his lap, taking control over her own pleasure. All Benny wants to do is have his way with her. 

He has to ask, though. He moves backwards slightly, away from her mouth. 

“Have you, uh...” Benny coughs awkwardly and sees Beth’s eyes narrow slightly. “Have you done this before?”

“Yes.” She answers quickly. Too quickly.

“It’s okay if you haven’t.”

“I have.” She moves back as well, still sat on his lap, the weight of her pleasant and warm. “I really have.”

She looks cross, and Benny takes this as a testament of truth. “Okay.” 

A pause. Now he’s curious. “How many people?”

She huffs. “Two. Does that matter?”

“No, no. I just... wanted to know what kind of competition I’m up against.” 

There’s another loaded pause, and Benny mentally hits himself for sounding like an asshole. Then finally, thankfully, Beth smiles that sexy, devious smile that he loves. “The bar’s pretty low.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I haven’t exactly had the most amazing encounters that a girl could ask for. I’m not even sure what it’s really meant to feel like.”

She looks down, and Benny suddenly feels a pull in his chest. This was never going to end well - she was his opponent, for God’s sake, an alcoholic and severely unhinged. Scarily clever, acerbic and the most goddamn intuitive chess player he’s ever come across. Nothing good could come of offering her a place to stay, creating sexual tension as thick as molasses, grabbing her arm and kissing her, touching her down-turned chin lightly and forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“Why don’t I show you, then?”


	2. beth

“Why don’t I show you, then?”

Beth almost rolls her eyes at the corny phrase. Part of her wants to pull away, tease him for even longer. Refuse to let him in. Benny Watts, arrogant cowboy that he is, is always going to be her competition, so to sleep with him feels like giving a part of herself over to him - a key into her head. She doesn’t want to let him pleasure her, knowing that it will simultaneously inflate his ego and completely change their relationship.

But the stronger part of her is panting with want, hot and bothered from the heavy petting. His eyes are boring into her mind and all Beth can focus on is his large hands encasing her waist, the calloused tips of his fingers gripping her burning skin. 

When Beth speaks, her voice comes out with an unintentional note of desperation, and she doesn’t miss the way Benny’s mouth curls into a smirk. “If you think you’re up to it.” 

In place of a verbal reply, Benny’s hands suddenly tighten around Beth’s waist, and he moves her off of his lap. She is suddenly lying on her back on the soft bed, her heart pounding. He is surprisingly strong for someone so skinny; she can see wiry muscles moving under the flat plane of his chest as he kneels over her, pulling his shirt off. She furrows her brow; she wanted to undress him.

“Something bothering you?” Benny drawls, throwing his shirt across the sparse room.

“You’re showing off.”

“Like you’ve never shown off in your life.”

“I can’t help it when you give me so much room.”

He narrows his eyes at her. There is something in his face that Beth has never seen before - something carnal, animalistic, and it makes her clench her legs together as she pushes herself slowly up the bed away from him. He crawls, shirtless now, towards her, until he is hovering over her, subtly parting her legs with his own. Beth can feel the heat from his body radiating against her skin, juxtaposed with the cold metal of his stupid necklace dangling against her collarbone. He drops his mouth down towards her ear. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

An uncontrollable shiver tingles from Beth’s ear, where Benny places a chaste kiss to her lobe, down to her pelvis. It isn’t fair, she thinks absently as he roughly pulls her shirt over her head, that he should have this much leverage over her. It isn’t fair that he should be able to touch her like this, make her shudder and catch her breath before he’s really done anything of note. Beth briefly wonders how many girls he’s fucked, before she realises that her bra is being unclasped.

Benny seems to be struggling slightly, fiddling around with the clasp behind her, his furrowed brow hovering above Beth’s face as she arches her back to give him room. 

“Something bothering you?” She quips. 

He arches an eyebrow, removes his hand. “You do it.”

Beth sits up slowly in time with Benny, so they are almost chest to chest. She reaches behind her to quickly unclasp the garment, but a hand is suddenly stopping her, gripping her arm like it was only fifteen minutes ago. 

“No.” Benny’s voice is low. “Slowly.” 

Beth blinks and stares into his eyes. “What?” 

Benny sits back, smirking slightly, breathing heavier than usual. “Take it off slowly. I want to see you.” 

Her heart beats in her ears. Beth watches his face carefully, trying to study his expressions like she studies the board, catching all the potentialities. But his face is impassive, the only movement a slight cocking off his eyebrow. His clothed legs encase her. 

Fine, she thinks. She can play this game. 

Still watching him, Beth unhooks her bra and slowly, slowly moves the straps down her arms, hoping that Benny can’t see her hands shaking. The cool air hits her breasts as her bra drops to the bed and her nipples harden. She sees Benny’s eyes drop down to her chest, sees him shifting almost imperceptibly, feels his legs tighten around her. Beth’s mouth is dry and her throat feels tight; nobody’s ever looked at her like this before. Even Harry, poor, sweet Harry, looked at her like some sort of china object that he was afraid of breaking. It had only served to make her angry. 

Benny looks like he wants to break her, like he wants to crack her surface and pull her apart. 

Without speaking, Benny sits up and moves forward, his eyes still on hers. He drops down so his face is level with her chest, hovering below Beth’s own face. She feels like a statue, a holy object that some penitent worshipper has come to kiss the feet of. She knows that he wants her, of course he does. He doesn’t think she knows about him spying on her as she was getting dressed weeks ago, but of course she knew - he wasn’t exactly quiet. And it was hard to miss the looks he gave her as she sipped her coffee that same morning, like he wanted to eat her. Benny always thought he was so subtle. Beth watches him encase a hard nipple in his mouth, and a rush of air leaves her lungs. 

He bites and licks at each breast like it would kill him to stop, sending pangs of pleasure through Beth’s chest to her groin. Somehow, she finds her hands wound into his stupidly long hair, knotting into the strands and holding him in place. She gasps as he bites into the flesh of her left breast.

“Sorry,” Benny’s voice is muffled against her skin. “Too much?”

“No,” Beth struggles out. “No, it’s... it’s working.” 

Before she knows it, Beth is back to lying flat on the bed, the sheets cool against her back. Benny kisses down her stomach, his lips leaving a wet trail behind that quickly dries on her burning skin. A small pang of panic squeezes Beth’s heart as she watches him go lower and lower until his mouth is hovering over her panties.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at her almost nonchalantly, like his chin isn’t resting on her pelvis, and for a moment Beth feels like hitting him. 

“Has nobody ever..?”

“No.”

He twists his mouth into that irritating smirk again. “Good. I wanted to be your first.”

Beth huffs. His cockiness was infuriating. “You’re not my first, Benny.”

Suddenly, all the irritation is lifted from her body as Benny lowers his mouth onto her clothed core, the heat making her gasp again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Beth wonders if she should be embarrassed that she is so wet already, but something in Benny’s eyes tells her it’s a good thing. 

Benny shuffles backwards so his knees are on the floor, pulling Beth’s legs with him. He hitches them up and places her calves on his shoulders, before reaching up again to pull the waistband of her panties down slowly. His raised eyebrow is a question, and Beth nods hurriedly. 

There is a short scuffle as he pulls her panties down and she has to move her leg to get them off all the way, but as quickly as they began, Benny is back between her legs, his eyes dark and shining. Beth can hardly breathe, waiting for him to move forward and touch her. 

“What do you want, Beth?”

His voice is low. Beth is too turned on to even feel irritated at Benny’s obsession with being in control. She’ll get him back. 

“Tell me what you want.”


	3. benny

“Tell me what you want.”

Benny knows what she wants. He knows that Beth wants nothing more than to tell him to fuck off, to stop being so controlling and just do something already. But he can also see the need in her eyes, in the way she grips the sheets like a vice and swallows hard as he presses a kiss to her upper thigh. He can’t help it, the domineering side of his psyche roaring to life like a lion. He wants to see how far he can push her, how much he can take control until she fights back and takes over like she always does. It’s a game.

“Touch me.”

And Benny has never heard two more beautiful words uttered in his life. Her voice is hoarse and quiet, that low, almost croaky tone that he loves so much. He can smell her, the musky tang of woman that he just wants to drink from her. And he can, and he will. Because she’s here, spread out in front of him, more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her.

As he dips his mouth down to taste her and revels in the first gasp he elicits from her, Benny considers just how vulnerable Beth is. She’s like an impenetrable fortress, with that hard stare of hers designed to intimidate any opponent. And, of course, it works on him too, but he would never admit that to her. Even the first time he saw her in that foyer (Benny knew how irritated Beth was when he pretended that he didn’t remember her - as if he would forget), even then when she was no more than an inexperienced kid, he felt drawn to her. He supposed he always knew that it would come to this, her legs flung over his shoulders as she writhes on the sheets above him.

He believes her that she isn’t a virgin - Beth would have no real reason to lie to him - but he can also tell that she’s never been touched in this way. He brings his hand up so his fingers can join his mouth, and she moans gutturally, the sound shooting straight to Benny’s groin. He shuts his eyes and focuses on her, the feeling of her legs pressing into his shoulders and neck, the firm softness of her hips beneath his fingertips, the light hairs tickling his nose as he licks and kisses and sucks. 

“Fuck, Benny...”

It’s music to his ears, that sound. Of course, Beth would say that he was a narcissist, getting off on hearing his own name cried out in rapture. And, Hell, maybe she would be right. 

Just to see her reaction, Benny hums into her as he crooks his fingers up inside - and sure enough, Beth arches her back off the bed and all but screams, and he feels her hands reach down to grab his hair. Her legs are shaking, and it only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers until they clamp around his ears, but not so much that he can’t hear the low shout she emits as she comes. 

He disconnects his mouth, still tasting her on his lips. She opens her beautiful eyes and he almost laughs at the look of shock on her sweaty face. 

“You really do like my hair, don’t you?”

“Shut up - oh, shit.”

Her complaint is cut off as he renews his efforts, flattening his tongue over her clit and licking messily. She whines. Point to Benny. 

“Stop, stop.” 

She’s pushing at his shoulders now, twisting her over-sensitive core away from his face. 

Benny gets back up onto the bed and crawls up her body so he is once again hovering over her. There’s something sordid about the fact that she’s completely naked underneath him whilst he’s still got his pants on, despite the fact that they’re now almost painfully uncomfortable. 

But he needs to reign it in. Beth Harmon will not be dominated. He knows that well enough. 

Seeing her like this, flushed and bare and open, feels like a privilege. Watching her play everyone at chess had been exciting, seeing the fire in her eyes contrasting with the impassive face that he had come to know so well whilst hovering over a chessboard. He had caught Cleo’s gaze during the intense gameplay; she had been watching Beth with the same sort of hunger on her lips that he felt in his very bones, and it had nothing to do with chess. Beth has no idea of the effect she had on people, Benny says silently to himself as she looks up at him with fixed, hooded eyes. He’s sure of it. Or perhaps she does, and it’s all deliberate - she’s too clever for him. But he would never admit that. 

She looks like a painting. Her hair, usually so beautiful styled around her head, is mussed and fluffy on the pillow, spread out like an orange halo. She’s still panting slightly, her sweaty chest heaving underneath his. Because he wants to, and because he can’t help it, Benny swoops down to connect their lips. She kisses him back passionately for a moment before breaking away, and Benny’s a goner. 

She whispers. “I can taste myself.”


	4. beth

“I can taste myself.”

And she can, as he licks into her mouth again with fervour. The effect on Benny is immediate, just as Beth had intended it to be. He pulls back from her. His dark brown eyes seem to grow even darker as his glistening lips part. He breathes heavily and leans down to kiss Beth again - she moves her head back into the pillow, just short of touching his mouth. He makes a sort of confused grunt in the back of his throat, and Beth smirks. 

“Wait.”

She feels deliciously warm, the afterglow of her orgasm still tingling through her limbs. Beth knows Benny well enough now to know that he feels powerful: he is still half-clothed, hovering over her naked, vulnerable body, arms trapping her, the source of her pleasure. But no way is Benny Watts going to be allowed to win this game. Not this time.

She pushes his shoulders gently so he rolls off her and onto his back, his position mirroring hers from mere seconds ago. Beth keeps eye contact with him as she kneels next to his thin legs, unbuttoning his black pants and watching his scrawny chest rise and fall rapidly. He is as hard as a rock, tenting his underwear when she shoves his jeans down to his ankles. He kicks them off hurriedly. Beth watches his hand snake towards hers, grabbing it and pulling it down towards his clothed crotch. 

“Touch me.” His voice is a whisper.

“No.” She snatches her hand back. 

Benny’s reaction is priceless. His eyebrows raise up to his hairline and he smiles, looking slightly unsure of himself. Beth isn’t ashamed to admit that this confusion shoots a thrill of pleasure straight to her core.

“No?” Benny goes to sit up, resting on his elbows. He looks debauched, his long hair messily resting on his neck, a small tangle by his left ear. 

There’s a loaded pause as Beth doesn’t reply. Benny chuckles lightly. 

“I’m dying here, Beth.”

“Then touch yourself.” 

“Touch me, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

He replies just as quickly as she did, and Beth narrows her eyes. If it wasn’t a game before, it sure is now. Benny clearly thinks he has the upper hand, but Beth knows better. 

She leans forward slowly and brings a palm to his crotch, rubbing it lightly, once, before drawing away again. He hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

“Touch yourself, Benny. Show me.” 

He looks pissed off, like he might get up, snatch his pants off the floor and stalk out of his room. But Beth can see the lust in the way his eyes narrow, the way he swallows and breathes heavily through his mouth. Not breaking eye contact, he brings his hand down to his underwear and reaches inside, fisting his cock. She hears his breath hitch. It’s the hottest thing Beth has ever seen.

“Properly.” Her own voice is a whisper. She feels shaky, but the uncertainty and nerves are long gone. It’s powerful, sitting elevated above this man who lives to tease her, telling him how to please himself. Watching. Waiting. 

Benny shucks his underwear down to his calves and Beth can finally see him in all his glory. His cock is on the thin side, just like the rest of him, but long. He looks far too proud of himself. 

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up, Benny.”

He frowns, and for a moment Beth wonders if she’s gone too far. But she also sees his cock twitch at her harsh words, and knows that it must be working for him. For all his domineering qualities, maybe Benny Watts liked being beaten from time to time.

He groans, deep and gravelly in his chest, as he moves his hand slowly up and down his cock, throwing his head back and revealing the column of his throat. Beth feels herself grow hot again and rocks subtly against the sheets, watching his large hand continue its ministrations.

“Fuck, Beth.” He moans, and it shoots straight to Beth’s brain like a bolt of lightning. “Fuck, touch me.”

“Ask nicely. 

She’s expecting some resistance, some sort of snarky comeback or angry retort. But he must be desperate because Benny merely bucks up into his own hand and groans again. 

“Please, Beth.” 

That’s all it takes, that broken beg, for Beth to snap and manoeuvre her still-sensitive body around so she’s crouched above him. She watches Benny’s face as she lowers herself onto him, watches it contort in pleasure, and shudders at the feeling of complete fullness when she’s properly seated on him.

“We didn’t, ah,” Benny’s voice cracks as he speaks, breath hitching again as Beth begins to grind her hips. “We didn’t use protection.”

“I don’t care.” And Beth realises that she really doesn’t care. Her entire life, since she first saw those squares in front of Mr. Shaibel, has been about looking forward, guessing moves and considering consequences. Damn the consequences. She knows what she wants, and she wants it now.

Benny grabs her hips, hard, squeezing the flesh and helping her move up and down. Beth grabs the headboard with the same force as Benny’s calloused hands, breathing heavily as he pumps himself in and out, hitting that spot that nobody had managed to reach beforehand. She moves harder, faster, changing pace and throwing Benny off balance. He throws his head back against the pillow again, panting. 

“God, Beth, fuck.”

“Say it again.” Benny only groans in response, and Beth clenches around him cruelly. “Say my name, Benny.”

“Beth, Beth, Jesus...” 

She rides him furiously; her thighs burn and she can feel beads of sweat dripping from her armpits, rolling down her back and her head. In a haze of pleasure, Beth grabs his right hand and yanks it towards where they are joined, guiding its ministrations and making her cry out as he circles her clit. 

“Oh...”

Her second orgasm surprises her. When Benny was between her legs, it was a long process, creeping up on her slowly like a building wave, cresting for what felt like hours. This one hits her like a brick, like a punch to the gut, and she cries out loudly, tensing all of her muscles and throwing her head back. 

She shuts her eyes, so when Benny grips her hips again and moves her onto her front on the bed, it feels like she’s spinning. Beth feels the head of his cock running up and down her sensitive core and gasps, knowing her face is flushing even more red than it must already be.

“Can I?” His voice from behind her is hoarse and deep. She nods quickly, and just as quickly he enters her again. It’s too much, far too much - the shocks of two orgasms in quick succession, the feeling of Benny’s bony hips smacking her behind, his low grunts and hard finger digging into her thighs. She hears him shout her name again, feels his hips stutter against her. Then it’s over, and his weight falls on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

She’s under him, but she knows, somehow, that she won.

Beth takes a moment to catch her breath, listening to Benny’s breathing and feeling his erratic heartbeat against her sticky back, before she speaks into the dull light of the quiet room.

“So that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... there you go my filthy horndogs  
> i never write pure smut but i hope you enjoyed! any feedback is appreciated <3


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